The Rage
by IsabelleBlue
Summary: AU. LoganOCVictor. What would happen if mutants were part of the world when it was destroyed by the virus in 28 Days Later? X-Men characters, some 28 Days Later characters but not many, and OCs as they try to rebuild their world.
1. Chapter 1

**TOKEN DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. ONLY MY OCS ARE MY OWN. THERE ARE DEPICTIONS OF ATTEMPTED RAPE AND EXTREME VIOLENCE IN THIS STORY. IT ALSO CONTAINS SMUT. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT DON'T READ IT, IT'S RATED M FOR A REASON. THIS IS A BIZARRE FEVER DREAM I HAD AFTER READING TONS OF FANFIC ABOUT THE X-MEN AND THEN WATCHING 28 DAYS LATER FOR THE FIRST TIME. ENJOY.**

It had been over a year since it happened. Over a year since the world had ended, since hoards of the infected had overrun all that they knew. Now, survivors were few and far between, struggling just to stay alive in this new horror. Maggie, Alicia and Selene had found each other not long after the complete breakdown of everything they knew.

They were in D.C., not a good place to be then: a major metropolitan center filled with people, a goldmine for the virus. They were lucky to have survived. There had been more of them at the beginning. Men who had been with them: Mark and Jim. It was funny, that the men were the ones who hadn't made it. It's not what most would have expected.

Alicia and Selene were twins, tall, slim, African Goddesses who saw the bottom line and made hard decisions from the get go. Maggie was a different fish altogether. They probably wouldn't have survived as long as they had if they hadn't found her, or rather, if she hadn't found them. She'd showed up one day, just after Jim had been killed and they were the only two left of their little group. Just walked around the corner with a quiet, "Hey," to them.

She was pretty, beautiful really, with pale white skin, bright blue eyes and riotous brown curls. Shorter then they were and more delicately built, but heavier at the same time, with more meat on her curves, which stood her in good stead as they had trouble finding food.

She wore gloves all the time, which they found odd, but that wasn't the strangest thing about her. She . . . knew things. Things they were thinking and most interesting and useful . . . she knew when the infected were near.

Since they'd found Maggie, she'd become sort of their de facto leader. She was harder, more willing to kill and make difficult decisions and had, the afore mentioned, ability to detect infected, keeping them safe. She was their rudder in their new mad world and they loved her for it.

Several months ago, they'd decided to leave the city. Clearly this apocalypse had traveled throughout the world. There would be no rescue coming. If they wanted to survive they'd have to do it on their own and staying where so many infected were wasn't the way to do it.

They'd packed up with supplies, found a good SUV and headed south, figuring it was less densely populated and had a more hospitable climate.

Months went by, they stayed in several places for a month or two. Travel was slow as they could only travel by day, gas was hard to come by and they always made a point to keep an eye out for survivors.

The did find a couple. A few came and went as they were infected and had to be killed. Maggie usually took care of them, she had a sixth sense about it and could always tell when someone was infected, almost before they did. It was eerie.

But finally, more then a year after The End, as they called it, they were heading into Georgia with two survivors that had become part of their group; Frank and his fourteen-year-old daughter Hannah, a pretty blonde with blue eyes.

Frank had found an emergency radio that didn't need power to run and had picked up a transmission. _" . . . To any survivors: You are not alone. Come to Military Roadblock number 32, south of Macon, GA where interstate 75 and 475 meet. We can provide food, water and shelter. To any survivors . . ._

They'd discussed it, and while there was no way to be sure they would be safe there, from both infected and normal people, it was decided that seeking out other survivors was the only way to go. After all, they couldn't begin rebuilding the human race with just the five of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Maggie eased off the gas as they approached the roadblock, slowly rolling through the wooden barricades. There were three Humvees, two sitting off to one side and one to the other of the road. It looked deserted.

She glanced over at Frank, who was in the front seat with her. He looked determined. She blew out a breath, putting the SUV into park and shutting it off. Unbuckling her seat belt, she eased open her door, always quiet now, unless for a reason, this new world had had its effect on all of them.

Frank followed suit with Alicia and Selene easing out of the back, quickly admonishing Hannah to stay put. Maggie could feel her resentment at that and hid a grin.

Checking to make sure her machete was still at the end of the little utility reel she'd rigged up. It was one of those things people used to keep their keys on, to keep them on their belt, but it extended so they could still use them. It kept her blade with her at all times, without her having to use her hands to always carry it. It had come quite in handy.

Made nervous by the silence around them, even though she'd sense it if any people, or infected were around, Maggie palmed the handle of her blade. Always ready.

She followed Frank around to the couple of tents that were set up beyond the trucks and barricades. Alicia and Selene both hanging back until she moved. They'd picked that up within weeks of meeting her. She knew they suspected what she was, but she didn't think they'd really care. After all, her power had saved their butts many times.

They all spread out, looking around. Quickly, they all came to the same conclusion: the roadblock was abandoned. They would find no help here.

Maggie met Selene's and Allison's eyes in turn. They were on the same wavelength. The twins started heading back toward the car as she called for Frank. "Frank, we need to go."

She could feel the disappointment pouring off him. "Go where?" He snapped and stalked off, out of their sight.

Maggie looked back at the car, checking on the rest of her little group. They were fine, all standing by the car. Hannah was now outside the car, but the twins had an eye on her so she wasn't too worried.

Frank had stopped off, angry that his hopes hadn't panned out. A crow landed near him on an infected carcass and he took his anger out on it. Throwing his baseball bat at it. As the bird took off it flew over him and he didn't even see the drop of blood from the infected that fell into his eye.

Maggie snapped around as Frank stumbled into view, already sensing the rage overtaking him.

Hannah, frightened by the sight of her beloved father stumbling towards them, ventured, "Dad?"

"Stay away!" he shouted, waving a hand toward her. "Stay away."

Maggie, without taking her eyes off Frank, said, "Selene, hold her. "

She stalked over to Frank, knowing he was infected, feeling the rage and knowing what she had to do. That didn't mean she liked doing it.

Her concentration all on him, she didn't sense the two men who'd crept up to the barricade because their remote alarm had been tripped. They'd gotten there as fast as they could. Apparently it was just fast enough to watch a delicate little woman hack a man who'd been in her party into pieces.

Maggie was, methodical, cold. She'd done this before, many times, and at least her power allowed her to see that there was nothing left of Frank. It gave her the comfort of surety. Gone was his usual worry about Hannah, or what they'd do when they got to the barricade and his sweet sense of humor. All that was left was rage.

So, she stepped up to him, oh-so-coolly, raising her machete with one hand while she slipped the sunglasses she usually wore off the top of her head to cover her eyes. She swung at him as he turned around and roared at her, ignoring Hannah's screams for her father. He was already gone.

Her blade bit into his face first, him too mindless now to even consider shielding it.

He fell to his knees, stunned, but not dead and Maggie swung again, ignoring the blood that splattered across her closed lips and face. He lunged clumsily, but Maggie was able to correct her swing and she caught him across the throat, blood spraying everywhere.

He fell, his body crumpling, life finally leaving his flesh as Maggie's head snapped up. She'd suddenly sensed the presence of two others.

The twins tensed; seeing this and one pulled out a machete of her own and the other a baseball bat, pushing sobbing Hannah behind them.

Two men, covered in military camo, eased out of the brush beside the road on the left. The women all watched them warily, weapons still out, when the first stepped out, arms raised placatingly. It would have been more soothing if he wasn't still holding a gun.

"Ladies! Ladies. No problem here. We're here to help you. We're so glad you've come." He kept easing toward her, as did the other one.

Maggie just looked at him. His enthusiasm was clear, as was his excitement. It was the large flash of lust he felt that put her on guard, from both of them. The other woman followed her cues. Now they were all wary.

He kept talking, "I'm John Davis and this is Eddie, Edward Bell." He nodded to his companion, who grinned dumbly at them. Having reached them, the two men put down their guns and stuck out their hands cheerily.

Finally, Maggie released her machete, and matched her gloved hand to his. They'd arrived.


	3. Chapter 3

They'd piled into the two men's truck. Apparently they'd set up at an old plantation just south and west of Macon. Far enough away from the city to discourage the infected from traveling, but large enough to house double their number easily they said, even with the four women added.

The men were almost beside themselves with excitement their presence and chattered the whole way there. Selene and Alicia broke from their reserve. Not Hannah and Maggie however: Hannah because of her father's death and Maggie because she was worried.

She didn't like how the two men had been, and were still, swamped with lust at their presence. She thought is likely that they hadn't seen a woman since The End. That could be bad news. She was leading her group, now made up entirely of women, one only fourteen-years-old, into a group of sexually starved men of unknown number, but surly greater than their own. It did not bode well.

She did not have long to ponder her reservations however, as they had arrived. It was amazing, what these people had set up. There was a large, gorgeous, antebellum mansion surrounded by piled sandbags and barbed wire, large artillery guns and watchtowers set up all around. Around that, far out from the house, it looked like they were building a wall; something permanent to protect them. In this new dangerous world it was a dream come true.

The women gasped in pleasure, looking around at the splendor around them. **This** was safety. **This** was the beginning of reconstruction. Men moved back and forth looking at them with interest, clearly excited by their presence.

Maggie was aware of men up on the watchtowers and within the house, watching them. She counted, she thought, twelve presences, including the two men who'd brought them in. More then they could successfully fight off. She felt a chill run through her. She hated having to rely on other people's honor.

Pulled from her thoughts as the front door opened and a man stepped out, she looked up. Clearly this was their leader. He wasn't dressed any different from the rest of the men, a mixture of fatigues and regular clothing, all easy wearing and durable. He had a presence, a surety, and she could feel the other men reacting with deference. That eased her mind a little. They wouldn't respect him so much if he weren't a good leader.

She started when Bell tentatively held out his hand to help her down, his lust dampening a little. She almost grinned, apparently her disposal of Frank and the blood still decorating her face and clothing had done a lot to dampen his interest in her. Good.

She took his hand, stepping down from the truck like a Duchess before turning and approaching their leader. He smiled at her. He was quite attractive in a very debonair way, with black skin and an eye-patch over one eye.

He held out his hand, "I'm Colonel Nick Fury. Welcome to Terra."

She took his hand, quirking an eyebrow at the name, but let it pass. "Maggie." She turned to the others. "This is Alicia and Selene and that's Hannah," she pointed them out individually, Hannah still sullen and silent.

He smiled again at them, magnanimously, "Well, ladies, I can't tell you how happy we are to have you here. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know we have hot, running water. Would any of you be interested in a shower?"

They all perked up at that. They hadn't seen hot water in months.

He led them inside, sending two other men, Private Clifton and Mailer to show the women their rooms and Bell and Davis back for the supplies from their abandoned SUV. Leaving himself and Maggie alone in the front entrance.

He turned to her, and before he opened his mouth, she said tersely, "I'd like to speak with you. Alone."


	4. Chapter 4

He looked at her appraisingly. She was worn, dirty and covered in blood, but still she stood tall and composed; clearly this wasn't a woman to trifle with. He motioned her to follow him as he led her to his study.

As soon as he shut the doors, she was pacing. He eased over to his desk, settling down to watch her.

She spun toward him. "I assume you're implementing some kind of long term reconstruction plan here."

He just nodded her question was clearly rhetorical.

She began pacing again. "You've got that wall started and it looked like you were preparing ground for crops."

He nodded again, she continued. "To rebuild you need women. Which I get the impression your men haven't seen in a long time." She spun around to look at him again, clearly agitated. "I don't like it! This is a tenuous situation at best. You're men, they've got one thing, and one thing only on their minds and I won't bring my people into a situation where they'll be brutalized or forced!"

She stopped pacing and leaned against the desk in front of him, getting into his face. "I need to know that it won't be allowed. That force or coercion of **any** kind, sexually or otherwise, will be swiftly and severely punished or I'll take us right back out of here, **today**."

Nick tried to be soothing. "Maggie, please, sit down." He waved her toward the chair in front of his desk and she plopped down heavily. "I have the exact same concerns you do, believe me."

She didn't want to but she could tell he believed what he was saying. Her tension eased a bit.

"We are trying to rebuild society here, and I will not have it be a society of might-makes-right. I am the law here and I say you will not be forced. Not in any way."

He paused for a minute, thinking, "I realize that there will be some tension, but, hopefully, because there are three of you . . . perhaps . . ." he paused, unable to think of a way broach the topic of them being willing to sleep with more than one man.

Maggie just looked at him, and uncannily, he thought, seemed to know exactly what his worry was. "What if . . ." she began quietly, "what if we attempted to be a little more . . . loose with our . . . favors, if you will? Do you think that will help . . . dampen any tension?"

He breathed a sigh of relief, she'd hit on it exactly, "Yes, my dear. I think that's exactly it. I will make it very clear to the men that they are at the mercy of your choosing and hopefully that will encourage them to be on their best behavior."

He watched at she stood and began pacing again. She spun to look at him. "Hannah won't be touched."

"Of course not." His indignation was clear in his tone.

"Alright," she finally breathed, satisfied, this was the best deal they'd get, "I'll talk to the others. We should be able to do this." She glared at him then, her eyes cold and blue, "But if you don't hold up your end of the bargain, we're out of here and I don't care how many of your men we have kill to do it."

He had to restrain a shiver. Those eyes, with the determination in them, coupled with her blood-splattered face and clothing . . . lets say he didn't for one minute have any trouble believing her. "Crystal, my dear."


	5. Chapter 5

That afternoon, the house was abuzz with gossip about the new arrivals. The presence of women after over a year was enough, but Colonel Fury's little speech had been quite the attention getter as well.

They were, 'survivors just like them. Strong women. The kind they needed to rebuild. So, if he even heard a hint that they were being mistreated . . . in any way . . . ejection from their compound would be the best punishment they might receive **by far**.'

Even Logan and Victor'd seemed a bit taken aback by Fury's harshness.

And that was saying a lot considering those two cast iron bastards.


	6. Chapter 6

After her shower, Maggie was feeling quite refreshed. She'd changed into a clean pair of jeans and a black t-shirt she'd had in her duffle along with a pair of black opera-length gloves she'd found in her room. She loved them. Also . . . she might be developing a bit of a glove fetish.

Wandering out of her room, her machete still strapped to her side, she fluffed her hair, enjoying the bounce of the curls after she'd kept it tied back and out of the way for so long. Enjoying the unaccustomed feeling of peace and safety, she wandered the house, exploring.

It looked like they'd been given rooms in the unused wing of the house; all the obviously used rooms were on the other side. The fully stocked library excited her, she was hoping to at least attempt to complete Hannah's education, no matter how unnecessary it might seem in their new situation; she deserved it.

Before she knew it, it was dinnertime and she hadn't even gotten a chance to talk to Selene and Alicia about her little bargain with Fury. She shrugged and started heading toward the large dining room. Fury didn't seem like the kind of guy to bring up something so crass at dinner, so hopefully she'd be able to talk to them afterward.


	7. Chapter 7

Everyone was already there when Maggie arrived and, even though she realized she looked like a deer caught in headlights, she couldn't help but pause in the doorway to drink everything in.

The huge dining table, with what looked to be a real crystal chandelier above it, was blazing with candlelight. The twelve men of the compound and her three women surrounded it. They were a motley assortment, mostly in army greens, the men all muscular and hardened by what their life had become. And, she supposed, . . . her women were as well.

What she didn't realize was that everyone was staring at her, not, like she thought, because she had stopped in the doorway but because of the image she presented. She stood, a picture in contrasts. Her legs spread and planted, ready to fight, a very masculine stance, dressed in a t-shirt, jeans and boots, like most of the men in the room with a machete attached to her belt, gleaming threateningly. At the same time, the severe black of her shirt made her pale skin glow, her eyes blazing blue and all the different shades of brown in her hair shone in the candlelight. The tightness of her clothing showcased a voluptuous figure and her elbow length gloves just called attention to the strip of exposed skin above them.

This was the Amazon warrior some of the men'd been warning them about? Many of them didn't know what to think.

Finally, Fury stood up, motioning her to the empty chair beside him, "Maggie," he smiled warmly, "come and sit down. Let me introduce you to everyone."

As she sat, he pointed out each man, "You've already met Davis and Bell, Clifton and Mailer,"

She nodded at each of them. Davis and Bell were still wary of her, Clifton and Mailer just generally lust-struck.

"This is Sergeant Ferrall and Sergeant Mitchell,"

Both were lusty and little else.

"Kyle Bedford,"

Who seemed particularly interested in Selene, which she found worthy of note. Most of the men weren't differentiating between herself and the twins let alone between the two of them. Something must have happened there.

"Private Jones,"

Now, him, she had a problem with. He seemed to be angry about Fury's 'talk' with them earlier and a little too interested in Hannah for her piece of mind. He'd bear watching.

"Corporal Tony Westlake,"

He seemed sweet enough, almost childlike in his genuine interest in them, tinged with only a small amount of lust, at least compared to the other men.

"And Victor Creed and Logan." Fury finally nodded at the last two men, toward the other end of the table.

Maggie was surprised to find herself going back for a second look at those two after her obligatory nod as they were introduced. There was something about them. They were more heavily muscled then the rest of the men, definitely something to make a girl's heart go pitty-pat, but that wasn't it. They were both dark haired, and a little more hairy then usual, surprisingly handsome really, but what she really found arresting was their emotions.

They were lusty, as much or more so then the other men, but it was controlled, as if they were still thinking it over. Logan was suspicious, about what she wasn't sure and Victor seemed to have a sort of banked rage, underlying everything else. Whatever was different about these two men, they intrigued her.

Suddenly, Logan arched an eyebrow at her and she flushed and looked away, realizing she'd been staring. She caught the wash of amusement from both of them.

Well, **that** was embarrassing.

She looked at Fury again. He'd been talking, a sort of welcome speech, about reconstruction. Everyone seemed quite into it.

Finally, dinner was served. It was actually quite lovely, canned vegetables of course, rice and meat; **real** fresh meat. The men must have hunted for it or found some livestock somewhere. The women dug in with gusto. They hadn't had meat in months.

Sadly though, it hadn't been cooked very well. The rice was underdone, and the meat burned and dry and nothing was spiced at all. Clearly the cook wasn't accomplished.

Fury caught her look and grinned, speaking up, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but would any of you ladies happen to be particularly skilled in the kitchen? As you can see we're slightly lacking in that area."

The men laughed, ribbing Mitchell who'd apparently been the chef.

Alicia spoke up tentatively, "Well . . . yes actually. I was a chef . . . before."

The men cheered, Fury spoke over them, "Then would you consider taking over KP? As you can see we would be very grateful."

Alicia couldn't help smiling at their antics as they started chanting, "Good food! Good food!"

"Yes, I could do that."

Maggie couldn't help but notice Logan and Victor didn't participate, they just watched the spectacle like she did. Logan pulled out a half-smoked cigar and clamped it between strong, white teeth. She looked away quickly before they caught her looking again. She shouldn't find that so attractive.

Fury glanced back at them consideringly, "Do any of the rest of you have any particularly valuable skills?"

Somehow Maggie got the impression he was looking at her in particular. He couldn't suspect, could he? She didn't really want to come out as a mutant. After the virus started spreading, before most of the population was infected there had been a run on mutants, the general population blaming them for the coming apocalypse. Even Alicia and Selene, her long time companions, only suspected. She just wasn't comfortable telling people just yet. It could prove too dangerous for her.

She chose to stay silent rather than lie, which was lucky for her because she didn't know that there were three other mutants in the room, Fury'd never been one for discrimination, one of which turned bright red whenever someone told a lie.

She was saved from attention when Selene spoke up, "Um . . . I was a pharmacist, so I have a little medical training . . . not a lot." She finished quickly.

Fury smiled. "Excellent. Get with Barrington. He's our field specialist. Nobody's really been seriously injured so far, but it'd be good to have some general medical care around here."

Then everyone looked at Maggie expectantly, "I was a school teacher," she said slowly, "Sorry . . ."

"Don't be sorry, my dear. I hope that your skills will be of some use to us in the future."

Maggie just nodded, not speaking. She hadn't really thought she'd be teaching anymore. Subconsciously she'd believed she'd never again move beyond struggling to survive; that there would no longer be children in need of schooling. She'd never really realized how sad that thought'd made her.

"What can we do to help around here?" she finally ventured; she didn't want to not have them pull their weight. It was probably the quickest way to create dissention among the men.

"Well," Fury began, "we're working on the wall as you know, as well as getting some crops planted, along with daily chores like laundry, etc. Tell you what, you ladies can help with whatever you think you'd be best with, but not tomorrow. Take another day, get settled in and we'll have you to work in no time."

Maggie nodded, grateful for the reprieve. She was no stranger to hard work, but they were all tired, stretched thin from their recent ordeals and poor nutrition. She looked at her girls. Yes, they could use another day.

Alicia spoke up, "We'll take care of dinner tomorrow night though," she said looking at their fair sardonically, "if that's okay with you."

The men cheered. Clearly it was.


	8. Chapter 8

After dinner the group dispersed, many up to their rooms. Maggie couldn't help but glance one more time at Logan and Victor, uncomfortable to catch them watching her as well.

The women all headed into one room together, the one she shared with Hannah. The twins had taken the room next-door. They waited until Hannah was asleep, before slipping through the connecting door.

Clearly Maggie had something she wanted to talk to them about.

"What's up?" Selene asked as they settled onto the large four-poster and Maggie paced before them.

"I had a talk with Colonel Fury earlier." She spun around and looked at them, "Do you realize the danger we're in?" she asked them suddenly.

Alicia just looked at her blankly, but Selene seemed to get it. "The men."

Maggie blew out a breath, relieved that someone else had also realized their jeopardy. "Yes. The men."

Alicia was still confused.

"They've been without women since The End. It's been over a year."

"And now they're sex-starved, lust-crazed beasties." Selene broke in jokingly.

"Oh . . ." Alicia breathed.

"I talked to Fury," Maggie resumed pacing, "and he promises, no force or coercion of any kind will be tolerated." The twins breathed a sigh of relief. She continued, "Hannah's off limits, as well."

"Good." Alicia said.

"But . . .?" Selene questioned.

"We have to realize that we are in control of how this will play out. If we . . . spread ourselves out among them, **now**. We prevent trouble that might come later if we refuse."

"They seem to be generally good men." Alicia ventured tentatively.

"But good men can do horrible things in the right circumstances." Selene replied.

"So the question is, do we want to have lots of sex right now, with our choice of partners or do we run the risk of being forced later if we refuse. And Hannah as well." All three women blanched at that. She was just fourteen.

For several minutes they were silent and then Selene started giggling. Maggie and Alicia looked at her questioningly.

"Sorry . . . sorry. It's just funny. I never thought Alicia and I being great big skanks would come so in handy."

Alicia smacked her on the arm playfully.

"So, you'll do it?" Maggie asked, relieved.

"Yeah, we'll do it." Alicia replied. "You know it's been over a year for us too."

"Sex . . ." Selene, breathed, "I've certainly missed it."

"Although . . . there is one problem." Alicia shuddered delicately, clearly thinking about something unpleasant.

Maggie was surprised at the wave of fear she got from her. "What?"

"Those two . . . Logan and Victor. I won't have anything to do with them."

Maggie frowned, surprised, as Selene nodded as well. "Yeah, those two . . . too scary for me."

Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. This was a problem she could fix. "I'll take care of them, then."

"Really? You'd do that?" The twins were clearly grateful.

"Yeah, it's okay. They don't really bother me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But . . . they do strike me as particularly possessive. If . . . if that becomes a problem, do you think you guys can handle the rest?"

"Ten men?" Alicia said.

"Five apiece?" a grin was creeping across Selene's face.

"Yeah, I think we can handle that," they said in unison. Laughter broke out.

Maybe they'd be okay here after all.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Maggie opened her eyes to sunlight glaring her in the face. Groaning she rolled over. The room was empty. Hannah must have already left. She wondered what time it was, it seemed awfully late. The girls must've let her sleep in.

Yawning, she sat up and stretched. She did feel particularly refreshed. She hadn't realized just how stressed she had been, leading their little band, until she'd gotten here and allowed her guard to lower, if only a little.

She went through her morning abolitions, enjoying the luxury of hot water and working pluming. Really, this place was a palace. Maggie dressed in the same jeans, boots and gloves as yesterday, just trading out her undies and t-shirt, this one green.

She couldn't help herself, and primped, if only a little, in the mirror, loving the freedom of not having to tie back her unruly curls. Wearing her hair up for long periods of time always gave her a headache and she'd been doing it religiously for over a year now. She could practically hear her scalp sigh with relief.

With one last pat of her bouncing curls, her hair had gotten long, it was already past her bra strap, she turned on her heel and headed out of the room. She had breakfast to find.


	10. Chapter 10

After grabbing a can of peaches from the kitchen and gobbling it down, apparently breakfast and lunch were apparently of the serve yourself sort here, she headed back upstairs for more exploring.

Sometime later she had found a roof access through the attic and had perched herself out on the thick stone railing overlooking the yard, watching the compound's activity. She had to say, Fury did seem to know what he was doing. The men were industrious: some standing guard on the watchtowers positioned around the yard, some working on the wall, a wooden structure easily ten feet high that would do a great deal toward keeping them safe here, and the rest working on preparing the ground for planting, it was that time of year.

One thing she did find interesting, now that she could see it from her vantage point, was that behind the house, where the crops were obviously going, they were building a second wall, separated by another large gate. It created a sort of figure eight. She thought it was quite smart. At night they would only need to worry about guarding their side of the eight, not wasting men guarding plants, which the infected had no interest in, but it would still be protected when people were working there in the daytime.

Maggie was jerked out of her thoughts by the scrape of a boot heel behind her and she leapt down, bringing her ever-present machete up to swing before she'd even turned all the way around.

Her hand was caught, engulfed in a much larger, harder one and she gasped in surprise, looking up only to realize that it was Logan in front of her, not the raging infected that she expected.

The tension drained out of her, and she relaxed, easing her grip on the machete, although Logan did not release her hand. He just stayed standing there, staring at her.

Then she noticed that Victor was there as well, lurking behind Logan's all too muscular shoulder, a larger, even more muscular shadow, with a predatory look in his eyes. Maggie reached out with her power, unsettled to discover just how lustful both their thoughts were right at this moment.

She tensed, her anxiety renewed as she thought about her vulnerability here. For all that she was quick with a blade, she was already at a disadvantage, Logan having caught her, as well as the fact that she usually relied upon speed and surprise in combat. These men did not strike her as at all weak or slow and she was all alone here on the roof, no one even close enough to call for help.

Seeming to sense what she was feeling, Logan relaxed his grip, letting her pull back her hand, and took a step away from her. "I ain't gonna hurt ya, darlin'," he said gruffly, and she sensed the wave of shame he felt after he'd so easily frightened her. That more than anything prompted her to release her machete, allowing it to fall back down to her side.

"Doesn't mean **I** won't," Victor growled sinisterly from behind him, drawing her eyes back to him. Which she suspected was just what he wanted.

"Victor . . ." Logan said warningly without looking at him.

Maggie had to smother a grin, enjoying their interaction.

"I'm Logan," Logan held out a hand, trying to correct the rather rocky start they'd had, hoping he hadn't frightened the girl so much she wouldn't feel comfortable around them.

He breathed a sigh of relief when she put one gloved hand in his, smiling slightly. "That's Victor," he jerked a thumb toward his brother.

"I remember." She glanced at Victor again, stifling a shiver at his predatory look, slightly alarmed that it was only partially out of fear.

"So, darlin'," Logan began, still holding his small hand in hers, "how're ya likin' it here?"

Her eyes left his as she answered, watching Victor as he moved, slowly circling around Logan so he could stand just as close to her on her other side. "Well enough, I suppose . . . we'll just have to see how it works out long term."

Victor frowned, unsurprisingly intimidating as he towered over her, "You plannin' on leavin' us, frail?"

"If it becomes necessary?" she tilted her head back to meet his eyes defiantly, "In a hot second."

It suddenly clicked for Logan. That was what Fury's little speech yesterday had been all about. She must've told him much the same. He wanted them on their best behavior so they didn't scare the women away.

"You the leader of your little group, then? Makin' decisions like that?" Victor asked; his head cocked like he suddenly found her more interesting.

"Yes," she answered slowly, "I suppose."; she thought she felt the slightest tug on the hair at the back of her head and wondered if Victor was playing with it but refused to give him the satisfaction of turning around.

Logan's question distracted her. "How long you been together, darlin'?"

"Um . . ." she had to think about it. "About eight months, I guess. Although, we just picked Hannah up about a month ago."

"Hmm." Logan rumbled thoughtfully, leaning a little closer to her and taking a deep breath. "You must be pretty good at what you do for them to follow you for so long."

Maggie frowned. Was he **sniffing** her? Eww. "I suppose . . ."

"What's with the gloves, frail?" Victor asked suddenly and she felt cornered. She'd almost forgotten him; as much as one **could** forget a mountain of male muscle and predation.

"No reason . . . I just like them," she said defensively.

"Really?" Logan rejoined the conversation, the disbelief was clear in his tone let alone his emotions.

She crossed her hands nervously behind her back and said as firmly as she could muster, "Yes."

"Nice try, frail, but yer lyin'. We can smell it." Victor rumbled from behind her. "**Why the gloves**?"

She wasn't ashamed of being a mutant, but . . . she'd had some bad experiences, in the past, when people found out about her gift, so caution had become the rule.

"C'mon, frail," Victor rumbled coaxingly. "What's so secret?" He took one step closer, so they were so near a deep breath from either of them would bring him against her back from chest to thigh.

Finally unable to stand having her back to him any longer, Maggie turned around. Breathing in his scent and watching him, she found couldn't look away. She could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest as he slowly brought one hand up to touch her cheek.

His nearness and her rising desire combined to fog her mind enough that until he almost touched her, she hadn't noticed the long, sharp . . . claws was the only word she could come up with to describe them, tipping the ends of each of his fingers. Maggie gasped in surprise and jerked back.

Victor assumed she was flinching away from him like so many other frails had and felt a wash of pain and anger.

Maggie's head snapped up and she looked at him like she'd sensed what he was feeling and, very deliberately, she took his large palm in both of her small ones and raised it up so she could see it better. Testing the tip of one claw with her gloved finger, she looked up at Victor again and asked, "Mutant?"

He nodded distractedly. He wasn't used to this kind of acceptance from others, especially women, so he just stood, his hand completely relaxed in hers, bemused.

"Yeah, darlin', we both are." Logan answered from behind her, intrigued as well by her easy acceptance.

Maggie tilted her head and looked at Logan from under her lashes, still not releasing Victor's hand. "What are your powers?"

"We've got . . . enhanced senses, speed and strength, but the big one is what ya call a healin' factor. We heal almost instantly."

"From anything?" Maggie had to ask, astonished.

"So far."

Maggie looked at Victor again, deeper this time, as if she was considering something. When she looked back at Logan, her gaze was piercing. "How old are you?"

She felt a flash of amusement from both men, even though they each barely cracked a smile. She must've hit it on the head.

"We were born in the 1830's."

She looked at them again, searchingly, and then ventured, "Brothers?"

"Half," Logan had to add.

Victor snorted, then turned his attention back to Maggie, pulling his hand from hers and grabbing her carefully around the waist to pull her closer. "Now . . . we've shown you ours, frail. Are ya gonna show us yers?"

It was alarming how attractive she found his wickedly coaxing grin. She looked from Victor to Logan and back again. She wanted to trust these men. From what she'd sensed from them, the most harmful thing they wanted to do to her involved sex . . . and didn't even seem all that off-putting. She wanted to start a real life here, and it wouldn't really be comfortable for her if she couldn't admit to such a large part of herself.

She took a deep breath. Here goes . . . "I'm an empath."

Maggie watched them react to that, waiting for that moment of suspicion that always crept up on people; they wonder: Can she manipulate emotions? Has she been doing it to me? And then the trust is gone, sometimes never to come back.

Neither man looked at her like that nor was she getting anything other then curiosity, approval, concern and, of course, lust from either of them.

Logan ventured, "You can read people's emotions?"

Ah, that was it. Maybe they didn't completely understand it. "And manipulate them," she said, wanting to face their rejection now rather than later when it might matter more.

But neither of them seemed to care.

Victor leered at her, "Then what am **I** thinkin' about?" A sudden flood of lust poured off him. So strong it was almost manifesting pictures in her mind. She couldn't help it. She blushed. Hard.

"Victor," Logan said warningly . . . **again**. He really didn't want to scare this woman off. He was just starting to like her.

"Oh, I think she likes it. Don't ya, frail?" Victor tugged her closer to him, her feet leaving the ground and her breasts flattening against his chest and then released her slowly, but to her relief, all the way, stepping back and giving her a little space.

Logan took the opportunity to step closer to her and brushed hand down her arm to take her hand. She wondered: Did they usually tag-team like this or was she just special?

"So, what's with the gloves, darlin'?"

Oh, she didn't like revealing this. It exposed her vulnerability. Not a good thing in her experience. "I . . . it helps me with control. I find it difficult **not** to read people if we're touching skin to skin. And I . . ." she trailed off.

"What?" Logan prompted.

"Tell us, frail."

She swallowed thickly, afraid and knew they both could smell it. "When . . . when people touch my skin, they can feel my emotions too."

She knew it was coming, knew they wouldn't be able to resist. Logan was closer and he brought up a hand first. She backed up a step, running into Victor's immovable bulk, and, before she could voice a protest, his callused hand was carefully cupping her smooth, cool cheek.

They both gasped at the contact, each sinking into the other's mind.

For Maggie at least, it wasn't that much of a shock. She'd already felt his interest in her, his lust and his generalized suspicion. Now she sank deeper, feeling his **very** grudging respect and affection for his long lost brother, his hope for the future now that they'd found a home here and his overwhelming guilt and grief over the deaths of almost all of the people he'd known and loved.

Logan, on the other hand, was swimming in very unfamiliar waters. He struggled against the onslaught of Maggie's emotions, even having trouble differentiating them from his own. What he did pick up heartened him. He felt her fear or . . . more like . . . hesitation, about him and Victor, the compound and the probable safety of her girls, for whom she felt responsible. He also felt her hope for the future and her possible acceptance here, her interest, sexually and otherwise in both himself and Victor and her own guilt and sadness over the people she'd lost to the infection.

Slowly, the emotion started to lighten, easing down to barely a trickle and he became aware of Maggie standing before him, his hand still on her cheek. She smiled sweetly, "After the first time I touch someone, I can control it, to a degree, so that it's not so overwhelming."

Victor looked at them, jealous that Jimmy had been the one to touch her and experience her power first. But, at the same time, he wasn't sure he really wanted to do it, either. Jimmy had stiffened like he was in pain and now the two of them were looking at each other with puppy dog eyes. It was enough to make a man swear off women entirely.

Maggie looked at him out of the corner of her eye and grinned like she knew just what he was thinking . . . and he realized, she probably did.

Suddenly, she whipped her head around, gazing off into the distance like a dog on point. Both men looked at her in confusion. They hadn't sensed anything.

"Goddammit!" she muttered, before taking off down the stairs to the attic at a dead run.

Logan raised his eyebrow and looked at Victor, who just shrugged and started to follow. Apparently, something was up.


	11. Chapter 11

Racing down the stairs she prayed she'd get there in time. She was picking up a strong spike of terror from Hannah and, now that she'd searched for it, powerful waves of rage and lust from . . . Jones.

It was Private Jones.

Finally reaching the ground floor, she ran flat out down the hall toward one of the out-of-the-way drawing rooms toward the back of the house and slammed the door open. Swiftly taking in the scene she saw that Jones had Hannah already cornered and down on the floor.

She strode over to Jones, where he had Hannah trapped and whimpering beneath him. He was so lust-fogged he didn't even realize she was approaching and it was child's play to grip his hair, pulling back his head. He gasped in surprise as she slit his throat and pulled the machete through his neck toward her to neatly remove his head.

Hannah squealed in disgust as blood fountained over her, and Jones' body dropped to the floor beside her, but Maggie ignored it. She was no longer in any danger; a little blood wouldn't hurt her.

She turned around, still holding the severed head and the bloody machete, looking at the men who'd piled into the room behind her. Several were standing by, shocked and she picked out Westlake who had just arrived, along with Logan and Victor who must have followed her and then Clifton and Barrington.

Finally, Fury appeared, Mitchell following; he must have gone to get him.

He stopped, shocked, she guessed, at the mess all over the floor. She stalked over to him, dropping the head at his feet.

"Take care of this . . . or I will," she said coldly, before walking over to Hannah, and helping her stand up.

Neither of them said another word as they headed upstairs, Hannah clutching her torn shirt closed tearfully.

The men were all silent, still shocked.

Victor leaned over to Logan, rumbling so low only he could hear, "Is it wrong that she gets me that much hotter, now?"

Logan chuckled. "Not just you, bub."


	12. Chapter 12

Once she'd reached their room and slammed the door shut, Maggie set blood-covered Hannah down on the chair in the corner, kneeling before her. Unmindful of the blood, she tilted Hannah's face to hers, forcing her to meet her eyes, giving her something to focus on.

"Hannah, look at me, sweetie," she coaxed as she patted her cheek, the girl now gasping for breath between sobs. "C'mon . . . look at me."

Finally, Hannah's much too wide blue eyes met Maggie's. "There you go." She smiled comfortingly, "It's okay now. You're safe. I've got you."

Hannah let out another harsh sob and flung herself at Maggie, holding on to her tightly. Maggie held her as she cried herself out, rocking her back and forth until she calmed down a little.

Maggie eased away, looking into Hannah's eyes searchingly. "Better?"

Hannah nodded.

"He didn't hurt you anywhere, did he?"

Hannah shook her head looking down again. "No . . . you got there before he . . ." she trailed off, tensing again as she thought about what had almost happened.

She looked up at Maggie. "**Thank you**," she said with desperate sincerity.

"Oh, sweetie," Maggie said, "you know I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you."

"Just . . . thank you."

"C'mere." Maggie gathered her up into another hug, worried about Hannah, and their safety in the compound. Finally pulling away, Maggie brushed a piece of fine blonde hair out of Hannah's eyes. "Why don't you go take a shower . . . wash all that blood off."

Hannah, nodded, standing, that sounded like a wonderful idea. She glanced back at Maggie, uncertain, "You'll be here?"

"I'll be here. I'm not leaving you."

"Okay."

Now, with Hannah safety ensconced in the shower, Maggie began pacing. She didn't like this. She felt guilty for not protecting Hannah well enough and worried about all of their wellbeing.

Maybe they should leave. Call it a loss and try to find somewhere else where they'd be safer.

She hesitated.

Jones had been the only man she'd been very worried about. The rest, while lusty, seemed willing to follow Fury's orders and not all that interested in Hannah.

Clearly she should have said something about her suspicions earlier, taken steps to protect Hannah preemptively. She just hadn't thought any of the men were **that** stupid.

She swung around as Alicia and Selene burst into the room.

"Where's Hannah?"

"Is she okay?"

Maggie held up her bloody gloved covered hands reassuringly. "She's okay. She's taking a shower."

Both women breathed sighs of relief. Alicia eased onto the bed while Selene dropped into the bloody chair with barely a glance. "What happened?"

Maggie began pacing again. "Jones cornered her in the back of the house and tried to rape her."

They both gasped. They'd been concerned about this for themselves. But Hannah . . . she was just a child.

Maggie's lips twisted sardonically. "Don't worry, I killed him."

Selene grunted, pleased and Alicia ventured, "So . . . are we leaving?"

Maggie blew out a breath. "That's what I've been considering."

"I think we should stay." Selene said.

Both women looked at her.

"We've got a good thing going here: food, a house, running water, protection."

"The protection is more than a little questionable." Alicia waved her hand toward the bathroom to illustrate.

"Well . . . Maggie's already taken care of the most immediate threat and Fury supported it, I assume." She looked at Maggie who nodded in confirmation.

"Were there any other men likely to do something like this?" Alicia asked and both women looked at Maggie. Clearly they both relied on the knowledge she always seemed to have about people.

"No. He was the only one. And I already knew it, too. I should have said something earlier." She couldn't believe she'd been so lax with Hannah's safety. "I endangered Hannah. If I'd been a couple minutes later . . ."

"Well, you weren't," Selene stood up, stepping into Maggie's path and halting her. "You've kept us safe. You're still doing it. We just need to . . . make a couple adjustments, is all."

Maggie took a deep breath, looking at both women one more time. "All right, we'll give this one more try, but from now on Hannah is never alone. One of the three of us is with her at all times."

The twins nodded, both in firm agreement.

Selene spoke up. "I'll volunteer for tonight since I've already gotten some." Alicia punched her playfully on the shoulder at the news but she just kept talking. "You two pick a man to sleep with tonight."

"Are you sure?" Maggie asked, still feeling guilty about Hannah and leaning toward watching her herself that night.

"Yeah, you said Jones was the only problem right? Well, we leave this long enough and some of the others might **become** problems."


	13. Chapter 13

That night they went down to dinner as a group, showing solidarity and resolve only the most unobservant of the men weren't already beginning to expect.

When they appeared at the door, Maggie leading protectively, Fury stood. "Ladies. Please, come sit down." He waved toward the four chairs that were empty on his right.

"I want to apologize," he said, as they sat down with Hannah carefully between Maggie and Selene, "Private Jones' actions today were unconscionable and not a reflection of any of our intentions toward you here."

They all just looked at him with the exception of Hannah, who hadn't made eye contact with anyone since she'd entered the room. Finally, Maggie nodded shortly to Fury in acknowledgement of his words.

Fury sat down and looked at the top of Hannah's bowed head. "Hannah," he began softly and she looked up at him, surprised to be addressed directly. "I want to personally apologize to you. I promised you safety here and I failed in that today. Had Maggie not taken it upon herself . . . well, I'm very glad that you have such a fierce protector."

He paused to let that sink in. "I would also like you to know," he raised his voice then, saying more sternly, "and everyone else here at this table, that if Maggie had not taken measures into her own hands, I would have ordered much the same for Private Jones. His actions were unacceptable within this compound and worthy of the harshest punishment."

At his words, Maggie felt better about their decision to stay. Fury was supporting, if not applauding, her actions in killing Private Jones and promising more of the same if any of the other men got out of line.

The tension eased out of the woman and the entire group began to pick at the poor fair Mitchell had prepared. Maybe the men were afraid to lose them because they'd have to go back to eating **this** unappealing mess. She dropped her fork back down on her plate in disgust.

Maggie looked up and Logan caught her eye and winked while Victor grinned lasciviously. Maybe things would be okay here after all.


	14. Chapter 14

After dinner, Selene escorted Hannah up to their room, giving Maggie and Alicia very pointed looks and motions on her way.

Well, it appeared they'd gotten their orders.

Maggie wandered off toward the back of the house, nervous. She'd never slept with anyone other than her husband, they'd married relatively young, and, while they'd had a very active sex life, she was hesitant about opening herself up that way to someone she didn't know well . . . let alone **two** someones.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sensation of someone coming nearer. She'd wandered into one of the empty drawing rooms, not so very far from where Hannah had been accosted and no one was nearby. She could tell the presence was male and lusty but its emotional signature wasn't all that familiar so she doubted it was Logan or Victor.

Maggie looked up as he appeared at the open door.

It was Sergeant Ferrall.

"Maggie," he said, relief filling his voice. "I was looking for you."

She raised her brows skeptically. "Well . . . you found me."

He hurried over to her, bashfully. He was about her age, mid-twenties, but he seemed younger. "I just wanted to say that I think what Jones did was wrong, attacking little Hannah like that. She's just a baby."

"I thought so too." Maggie thought **that** had been obvious, but couldn't think of anything else to say in response.

"Well . . . I just wanted you to know that I don't have any problem with how you handled it."

His words were sincere, but the fog of lust overwhelming the majority of his emotions made it hard to take him seriously.

He stepped closer to her, now definitely in her personal space. "So, how are you settling in?" he asked, familiarly bringing a hand up to touch her on the shoulder.

"Ah, Okay . . ." At this point Maggie was searching frantically for a way to let him down nicely, as clearly, he was hitting on her.

"Hey, bub, how 'bout ya get away from my girl?"

Both their heads snapped around. Ferrall's face awash in anger and Maggie's with relief.

"She's not **your** girl, Logan," Ferrall began hotly, although she could tell it was mostly bluster. He carried a deep-rooted fear of Logan.

Logan stepped forward, aggression vivid in his stance. "An' **you're** gonna tell me different?"

Uh, oh. Now they were squaring off.

Maggie jumped in between them, one hand to each testosterone filled chest. "Woah! Oh, no, boys. There will be no fighting," Maggie said, pushing them apart. Mostly only succeeding because they were surprised by her interference.

Once she'd gotten them to each back up a couple paces she stepped over to Logan, putting her back to him. She felt him place a proprietary hand on her hip, which she did her best to ignore, as she said to Ferrall, "Look, sweetie. I'm sorry, but I'm going with Logan tonight."

She watched as his face hardened; she could feel humiliation and disappointment flow through him. He started to turn away and she grabbed him by the arm to stop him. Hoping to ease his turmoil and prevent future problems she said, perhaps unwisely, "Don't worry . . . you'll get yours. And tell the rest of the men that as well. We don't plan on neglecting any of you."

He looked at her for a second and even she had trouble reading him before he turned around without a word and stomped from the room.

Maggie turned to Logan and was surprised by the . . . predatory anger in his face.

He didn't say a word, just crowded her with his big body and backed her into the nearest wall. Suddenly, she was all too intimidated by him.

And he was supposed to be the cuddly brother.

He leaned into her, pressing the whole front of his body against hers, the hard planes of his chest and thighs cutting into her softness. She closed her eyes as she reached out with her power, hoping to get a better understanding of where all this was coming from. It wasn't anger . . . exactly, more like . . . a sudden need to dominate and possess. It was very base feeling and like nothing she'd ever come across before.

He dipped his head into her neck, his facial hair tickling her, making her toes curl. He growled, "If you're gonna be mine, darlin', nobody else is gonna touch ya."

Ah, he thought she'd meant **her** **personally** when she'd told Ferrall he wouldn't be neglected.

"Oh, Logan, I didn't mean . . ." she trailed off with a gasp as he bit down on the tendons on the side of her neck. That should **not** be that arousing.

He roughly kneed her legs apart, pressing his hardness against her and pinning her with a great deal of weight against the wall. "**Nobody** touches ya."

He kissed her then; their first kiss.

And it was thrilling.

He kissed deeply, possessively; as if he was searching for something inside of her and wouldn't give up until he pulled it free. He finally moved back, once Maggie'd pretty much forgotten how they'd gotten there and contented himself with her neck while she struggled to focus.

Finally, Maggie nudged him back far enough to meet his eyes seriously. "What about Victor?"

He froze and for a moment she wondered if he didn't know what she was referring to. Then he clenched his jaw and looked away from her, one big hand cupping the back of her head almost absently.

Logan finally looked back at her, "I don't like it . . . but . . . yeah, Victor too." He gazed into her eyes deeply, his burning with lust and possession. "You'll be ours, yeah? Just ours, nobody else's."

"Yeah," she whispered softly, leaning into his big hand.

He cracked a little smile at her and tugged her away from the wall, leading her out of the room.

She took a deep breath.

It was time.


	15. Chapter 15

Logan led her into the brothers' suite, through a messy sitting room, cluttered with big boots and weapons, and into their bedroom without a word. He pushed her gently, well gently for him anyway, and she ended up bouncing onto the bed as he kicked the door shut and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Maggie shivered at the look on his face as he stalked over to her, suddenly bare-chested and loosening his belt. He let the two ends dangle, the buckle clinking, still in the loops as he leaned over her, where she lay half on the bed on her back, frozen where she'd landed.

He paused, just drinking in her scent, before he darted down, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She couldn't stifle the gasp of surprise at his swift movement. Then, at the feel of his lips and teeth on her skin she moaned and buried her gloved hands in his hair, arching against him.

He kissed his way to her lips and then dove between them, penetrating her deeply with his tongue and coaxing her own to reciprocate. He slid his warm, hard hands under her t-shirt and Maggie shivered at the sensation of his emotions entwining with hers.

The more skin-to-skin contact between them the stronger it became.

Emboldened by the wash of lust she pulled from him, she couldn't contain the groan that rattled from her chest as she ground herself against the hard thigh he slipped between her legs.

Encouraged by her obvious desire, Logan pulled back to take of her t-shirt and bra. As Maggie started to pull off her long gloves he grabbed her wrists in his hands.

"Leave 'em."

Their eyes met for a moment and she got just the tiniest flash of a brunette with a stripe of white in her hair and the feeling of long unrequited longing from him. Then, before she had a chance to really process that information, he had dipped down again and was cupping her soft, white breasts in his hands, the feel of his lips and whiskers against her hardened nipples sending shivers down her spine.

She arched up against him again, and gasped at the flood of lust that poured into her as her belly met his chest. Completely stripped of any shyness she reached for his jeans, surprisingly deft in her haste and had his pants undone in seconds.

He groaned as her silk-gloved palm engulfed him and he pulled away from her delectable breasts, suddenly no longer interested in preliminaries.

Frankly, he was proud of himself for not using his claws to strip her of her pants and underwear. Now probably wasn't the best occasion for her to see them for the first time.

In seconds, Maggie was naked and Logan had slipped two fingers into her weeping folds. She groaned and twitched at the pleasure/pain of him stretching her. It had really been a long time.

He leaned in and kissed her again, so hot and open-mouthed that she barely noticed when he slipped in another finger.

Satisfied that she was prepared sufficiently for his girth, he positioned himself at her dripping entrance, more then a little pleased at the way she whimpered and writhed to get closer.

"Ready?" he whispered to her, enjoying the way she caught her lower lip between her teeth and grimaced at him. He brought his hands to her hips and eased into her wet heat, pulling her toward him. They both groaned as he seated himself fully and Maggie couldn't help but throw her head back at the sensation.

Her bared throat pulled at him and he growled and bit into the flesh at the spot where her neck met her shoulder as he began thrusting.

Intoxicated at the feel of her soft and writhing in his arms, Logan lost himself in a way he rarely allowed; embracing his animal urges. His thrusts sped up, becoming more powerful at the same time, spurred on by the soft whimpers and gasps that escaped her.

Maggie, herself, had been washed away by the tide of their combined desires. She was aware of nothing but him and her, the point of power and pleasure where their bodies met and the tantalizing something just out of their reach.

Finally, her orgasm was upon her and she felt herself clench rhythmically around him as the first of the waves washed over her. She pressed her face into his shoulder, finally biting the salty, smooth skin there to muffle her scream.

The tightening of her flesh around him and the feel of her teeth in his skin served as the impetus to Logan's own orgasm and he quickly found himself thrusting into her, once, twice, three times until his seed spilled white-hot between them.

He collapsed against her, turning to the side at the last second so as not to crush her under his bulk and they both lay too satisfied to move.


	16. Chapter 16

Very early the next morning, Maggie jerked awake in an unfamiliar bed. Not that her bed in the compound was all that familiar, after all they'd only been there two days.

She jumped a little as a faint snore echoed through the room and looked over her shoulder to see Logan's broad and naked back behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief. That's right. She'd spent the night in the brothers' room. They'd collapsed together into sleep and had barely moved since.

She looked around in the dim light; she hadn't really gotten a chance to look it over last night. Logan had been a little . . . distracting.

It was a big room; it matched the bed, which had to be the biggest bed she'd ever seen, much larger then king-sized . . . maybe . . . orgy-sized. She giggled quietly to herself, reminded of a series of books she'd read back before the infection. It looked like she was in the master suite of the mansion.

Just as she'd relaxed again, the bedroom door swung open silently and Victor stalked through the opening. He didn't look surprised to see her there. Although, she supposed maybe he'd smelled her . . . again, eww.

He didn't look at all happy.

He strode over to the bed and just stared down at her, making her feel self-conscious about her currently unclothed state. Tugging at the sheet to make sure she was covered, she found she couldn't look away from his burning gaze, lost in the maelstrom of his lust and rage.

Finally, she whispered, "Can you share?"


	17. Chapter 17

That seemed to make him pause and his eyes focused anew on her's.

"That was the deal," Maggie slowly sat up, still whispering, sleep tousled and clutching a corner of the sheet to her chest, "you and Logan . . . and nobody else."

He frowned at her, but made no advancement; considering.

"Can. You. Share?" she said again and tentatively laid a pale white hand against his chest, the sweet scent of feminine arousal drifting to his nose.

He couldn't help the rumble of pleasure that escaped him at her voluntarily touching him. No matter how much attention Jimmy might enjoy from the ladies, true desire for him had always been hard to find. That, coupled with the fact that he and Jimmy'd shared a woman a couple of times over the years without **too** much bloodshed, even if it had been a very long time, decided it for him; he'd allow Jimmy to touch her as well. He felt quite magnanimous and grinned lasciviously at his frail.

Turning, he looked around the room, his eyes finally landing on the large leather chair in the corner near the head of the bed. Stalking over to it, Victor settled himself down upon it, his knees spread wide.

"Ca'mere then, frail," he motioned to her, all arrogant command.

Maggie shivered. This man was wicked. She could tell; he was going to force her to do all the work. Deciding bravado was the order of the day. She slowly stood, trying to hide her nervousness and brazenly allowed the sheet to drop, padding over to him completely nude, trying to ignore her anxiety.

He patted his lap, just in case she hadn't realized where he wanted her.

She attempted to sit down sideways, but he prevented her.

"Ah, ah, frail," he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up and astride his legs before she even had a chance to understand what was happening. "Like this."

She wasn't able to contain her gasp as his lust flooded her mind. Suddenly, she wasn't feeling nearly as self-conscious, she thought, as she pressed herself against the bulge between his legs.

Victor, on the other hand, was inundated with everything she was feeling . . . uncertainty, nervousness, self-consciousness and fear but, he was pleased to note, underneath it all there was a kernel of lust, growing under the heat of his own.

Slowly, her emotions eased away and he came aware of himself, and her with her soft pale hand against his cheek.

He growled at her, lust renewed at the sight of her, naked, kneeling above him and he slid a taloned hand into her hair, roughly pulling her into a kiss.

Maggie moaned at the invasion of his kiss.

And it was an invasion.

He moved in forcefully and with little care to her comfort, his sharp teeth abrading her soft, plump lips and drawing blood. He eased one hand down to her plump hip, grinding her forcefully against his hardness.

Maggie, losing herself in the maelstrom of both of their desire, wasn't aware of anything else in the room, just him and her in that soft leather chair.

He spent some time with her, nipping and teasing her lips, earlobes, neck and shoulders before his rough fingers found her nipples and twisted . . . **just** hard enough.

Maggie bowed back uncontrollably, a cry breaking past her lips.

Victor grinned, "That's it, girl. Let me hear ya."

She shivered at his words. Why was she not surprised he was a dirty talker?

He eased his broad, clawed hands down her sides, pricking her with the tips of his nails just enough to unnerve, not quite drawing blood. With one hand he pulled her wrists behind her back, loving the way it forced her to arch, throwing her breasts toward him as he eased down between her legs with the other.

Maggie whimpered, caught between desire and fear as a threatening talon crept between her nether lips. Hoping to prevent any damage, she widened her stance as much as she could.

"That's my girl." Victor rumbled with satisfaction and rubbed his curled up knuckle against the weeping nub of her sex. He watched through half-lidded eyes as she arched and jerked in his hold. He could smell how close she was and just as she was reaching that point of no return, he snarled at her commandingly, "Come."

Never would Maggie have said that one simple word could have such an effect on her, but it did, and she did. She came, bucking and moaning, naked astride his lap, him still fully clothed, her arms trapped behind her back. And it was wonderful.

When she came back to herself, Maggie found herself draped bonelessly against Victor, his still incredibly hard cock trapped between them. Eager to return the favor, spurred on by the lust she was picking up from him, Maggie eased a hand between them and cupped his erection, loving the pained groan that escaped his lips.

She gave him a quick but fervent kiss on those lips before scooting back on his lap and devoting herself to opening his pants. Easing the fly down she palmed him and brought him out, giving him a few easy strokes enjoying the growl he released in response. He was a little larger than she'd imagined given his frame. Large enough that she might have been worried about the fit if she hadn't already had sex that night. Now, she thought, it would be doable, if still a tight squeeze.

Maggie eased back toward him, readying herself to move over his erection, when his growl forestalled her.

"No, frail." As she looked up at him, he pushed her back off of him, easing her down to the floor, on her knees between his legs. As she looked at him, sprawled indolently in front of her, he grabbed her hand, wrapping it around him again and helping her give him another slow pump.

His other hand threaded through the hair at the back of her neck and started pulling her inexorably toward his cock, their hands still wrapped around it. "He was the first one to fuck ya, well . . . I'll be the first to use your pretty mouth."

She shivered again, the mix of trepidation and desire washing through her at his words.

"Take it," he commanded and the soft head bumped her lips and she found herself opening, taking him in, drowning in his musk. She shivered again as she moved into a rhythm, his other hand going to her hair as she struggled to take more of him into her mouth. He wasn't forcing her, per se, she controlled the depth and rhythm but his hands where there, at the back of her skull, and somehow she knew if she tried to back off he wouldn't let her. And that thought was **much** too arousing.

Victor groaned at her ministrations, his fingers tightening in her curls. "Fuck, girl, yer good with yer mouth."

Maggie felt herself both blush and moisten at his words.

Victor growled, feeling his balls tighten; he was almost there . . .

Feeling how close he was, Maggie quickened her motions, taking him all the way to the back of her throat on the down stroke.

One large hand cupped the back of her head and as the first waves of climax flowed through him, he growled, "Swallow it," before emptying himself between her reddened lips.


	18. AN

Okay, guys. The bad news is, that's all I have for now.

I **do** plan on working out an ending at some point, but I've lost my inspiration.

Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reviewing.

IsabelleBlue


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